


The Sleepwalker

by belgardebells



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Met on the Ark Station (The 100), Ark AU, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Immoral Behaviour, Misunderstandings, Requited Unrequited Love, Sleepwalking, The Ark Station
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belgardebells/pseuds/belgardebells
Summary: Clarke is in love with her long time friend, Bellamy Blake, but he doesn't seem to share the same interest. She yearns for him from afar, but when she can no longer bear the pain of her unrequited love, she attempts to get over him by going on a blind date. The night before it, though, Bellamy comes to Clarke in the dead of night, and she lives out her long time fantasy with him. She's thrilled about it until morning, when she finds out that Bellamy ... doesn't exactly remember.





	The Sleepwalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally know nothing about medical things. I made some stuff up, my people. jsyk.

Clarke sighed for the fifth time in the same number of minutes as she looked down at the tablet in her hand. It was open to the conversation she'd been having with her friend Harper, who'd been so kind as to set Clarke up on a blind date  _without_  her permission. The unfortunate soul was named Finn Collins, and now Clarke had his contact information. He lived and worked on Mecha Station, the same station where Clarke's mechanic friend, Raven Reyes lived. But Clarke had never heard of him before. Not that knowing him would make a difference. She was too busy to date anyone. She was nearing the end of her Apprenticeship, which meant the workload necessitated near all of her time. When she wasn't practicing and healing in Medical, she was at home reading through medical transcripts, studying the texts, and being quizzed by her mother.

On top of that, she'd recently appealed to the Council to revise their law against parents having more than one child. The population on the Ark was dwindling anyway and had been for the past two decades. More than that, there was no reason second children should be forced into prison for being born when that was entirely out of their control. Octavia Blake, of course, was the reason Clarke had come up with the idea in the first place, but afterward, she'd discovered there were a lot more Siblings than she'd been lead to believe.

She'd made the motion a few days ago and had just received news that morning that there was to be a Second Reading on her bill in a week's time. That meant she'd need to be thorough in her revisions, practicing her speech and fixing any holes, ensuring there were no areas the Council could argue over. She needed it to be foolproof.

Any free time she did have after all that, which was next to none, she spent finding the slightest moments of reprieve with her friends; she spent with Bellamy. There wasn't room for someone else.

Harper, however, didn't seem to think it a big deal.

_You'll like him, I promise._

It was the last thing she'd said over ten minutes ago now, and Clarke still hadn't responded. What more could she say? The whole conversation was laced with her ' _no thank you_ 's, and her ' _seriously, I don't need to date_ 's, her less patient, ' _Harper, I said no. Cancel the date_ '. Her friend couldn't be dissuaded, apparently. Not that it made any difference to Clarke. She wasn't going to go, regardless of whether Harper cancelled the date or not. 

A growing commotion in the hall outside Medical pulled Clarke's attention up and away from her tablet. She tapped it off and set it aside, jumping down from her stool. She hurried around the patients' cots on the way to the transparent flaps that acted as a door when there was a flu outbreak, which there currently was. When her mother came out of the back office, she made nervous eye contact with Clarke as they approached the entrance. Whatever was going on outside was more serious than someone having the flu. In the next moment, a voice outside shouted to pull back the flaps. Clarke ran across the room to the entrance, reaching it just in time to make a walking space. Her breath left her lungs in an instant at what she saw.

There were five guards there. One took the lead with his weapon in his hands. There were two behind him carrying a man whose left arm was torn in half, hanging by the skin from his elbow, revealing tendons, flesh, and muscle. His legs looked like they'd been blown off, part of his femur on one leg shattered where it peered out from the seared hem of his pants. He was bleeding all over the floor. There were two other guards at the rear, also armed and on alert.

"What happened?" Abby demanded, leading the guards to the far end of the Medical Center to the surgery tables.

Clarke stayed back, stunned, her hand still holding open the door flaps. Nurses were bustling around the cots, hurrying to close the curtains so as not to disturb the patients, many of whom were sitting up shocked, havingseen the whole thing. The flaps Clarke held back were trembling. She jerked her hand away, letting them fall closed, and strode after her mother to offer assistance, her hands clenching at her sides. She didn't even know if she could be of any help. Jackson was already with Abby.

When Clarke approached, the man was already lying on the surgical table.

"... too late for surgery," Jackson was saying.

She slowed to a stop, still feet away. If she hadn't already suspected he was going to die, she knew they that he certainly was. They hadn't even been given a chance to save him.

He was moaning on the table, incoherent mumblings falling from his mouth, his undamaged arm waving around reaching for nothing. His eyes alternated between squeezing themselves shut and flying open, frenzied in their surveillance of the room, landing on Abby, then Jackson, the guards, then Clarke, then back. He was delirious.

Abby seemed to tell the same. She straightened her shoulders and took a step back to make room, her eyes finding Clarke's.

"Take the lead, Clarke."

She'd already had her moment of being frozen in shock, so now, she acted at once. There were nurses gathered around, huddled together as they watched this fright of a man scrabble for purchase on his life. Clarke asked one of them to retrieve a vial of Alienium from the stores while she prepped the syringe. Alienium was liquid death, relaxing the patient to the maximum degree within seconds of entering the bloodstream. It worked by drawing their consciousness out of their bodies and inhibiting any and all pain receptors in the brain, edging the patient into a state of bliss before stopping their heart. It was something that was rarely done, and Clarke wasn't sure if that was the protocol according to her mother's expectations, but she'd left it in Clarke's hands. There were other things to do, other less severe methods of reducing his pain, but his limbs weren't attached and he was losing his mind.

As soon as the nurse returned, Clarke stuck the syringe into the vial and drew back the Alienium with steady fingers. Instead of bothering with finding the vein in his arm, which she wasn't sure she could do at that moment anyway, she stabbed the needle into his neck and emptied the liquid into his bloodstream.

She counted. It took three seconds for his body to fall relaxed. His eyes had been opened in their wild stare, oblivious to what she'd been doing, but right then, his lids fell. A contented look came over his face, his hand ending its restless searching and settling at his side. Clarke stared for a moment, waiting - perhaps for his death - until Abby softly called her name. Clarke looked up at her, and Abby nodded.

Afterward, Clarke gave the orders for her mother to begin organ harvest. She instructed the nurses to start on cleaning up the blood in Medical, and made a call to the Janitorial Office about blood needing to be cleaned up all the way from Thelonius Jaha's door to the Medical Center. She wasn't given details about what happened to the man, and upon being prompted, the guards didn't elaborate on why he was found outside the Jahas' house. Clarke wouldn't find that out until later.

Ten minutes later, she was near the back office in the small washing center with a trough sink, cleaning the blood off her hands. She hadn't even realized she'd been bloodied by the man, just that red currently spattered her lab coat, her shirt, and the tops of her pants. Without really paying attention, she removed her lab coat and her shirt, tossing them both into the laundry hamper. She took off her pants next and let them join the others before surveying her body in the mirror, searching for streaks of red. Once she was sure she'd washed it all away, she went to the set of four lockers at the side of the room farthest from the door. They were there for this exact purpose, holding extra clothing in case of emergency. Clarke changed into a set of them now: a pair of plain, baggy red scrubs and a new white coat.

Her shoulders held the tension of the last twenty minutes, the muscles on either side of her spine burning. It was the hardest part of being a doctor. Not being able to save everyone.

She made to leave the washing alcove, but stopped when she heard frantic whispers coming from her mother's office. The door was opened a crack, so Clarke pressed into the wall, hidden, and listened.

"Are you saying he set off the bomb as an act of terror?" her mother asked.

A bomb? Clarke blinked, leaning closer.

"It looks like," said David Miller, the Commanding Officer of the Guard. "We have reason to believe he wasn't acting alone, either."

"Where's this information coming from?" Abby asked.

Officer Miller dropped his voice, but Clarke still made out most of it.

They'd ransacked the man's apartment in Factory Station, was the gist. The bomb was set off on the Jahas' door, meant to implode through the door and into the room, but it had exploded outward instead, injuring the man and ridding him of his limbs. At least, that was what Clarke could deduce from reading between the lines. Officer Miller didn't explicitly state it, and from the way he spoke, Clarke thought he must have already explained that part to Abby before Clarke showed up. They'd found documents detailing scheduled attacks on not only the Jahas, but also the Millers, the Kanes, and the Griffins. The terrorist referred to people he was (likely) working with using codenames. Officer Miller mentioned at least six names, but Rebel and Strongman were the only two Clarke could make out. Rebel was supposed to lead the next attack, and Strongman was leading the one after that.

"What's their motive?" Abby asked.

"We're not sure, yet, but--" he stopped, his voice suddenly tense. "There's something else you should know, Abby."

"Tell me," Abby said, more alert.

"Wells was the only one inside the apartment at the time of attack," he said, grave. "It seems he was their target; not Thelonius."

He said something else, but Clarke couldn't hear. She pressed closer.

"Are you saying they're coming after my _daughter?"_  Abby demanded, her voice louder.

Clarke froze, her lips parting. Her heart seemed to stop beating altogether.

Officer Miller dropped his voice again, and Clarke couldn't hear. Blood was pounding in her head, so she likely wouldn't have been able to hear anyway.

Her mother, though, wasn't trying to be quiet anymore.

"No!" she said, her voice shrill. "Not in a week, immediately! She's in danger! You can't leave her without a guard for that long!"

Officer Miller spoke again. Clarke couldn't hear, again.

Abby scoffed at whatever he'd said. "I know how the guard roster works, David. You can spare me the lecture."

Clarke was frowning deeper when Officer Miller spoke again and she still couldn't hear. She  _needed_ to hear this. She was leaning as far toward the door as she could without being spotted. It would have been preferable if she could just  _hear_ harder!

"So what you're saying," her mother said, her voice cracking like a whip, "is that Clarke, Nathan, and Wells are all in immediate danger, and there's nothing anyone can do about it?"

"That's not what I'm saying," said Officer Miller, exasperation leaking into his tone. "I'm saying we can up security and increase patrols, but setting up guard detail for specific people will still take paperwork even though the situation calls for it."

Abby let out a sharp exhale, but didn't dispute him.

"I'm scared, too, Abby," he said, his voice cracked. "Nate is all I have."

There was silence long enough that Clarke thought she just couldn't hear them again, but then Abby sighed.

"Fine," she said. "I'll bring this up with Thelonious about getting Clarke an Officer. In the meantime, keep this quiet. She doesn't need to hear about any of this before we've got it figured out."

"Of course," he said.

There was shuffling, and Clarke jerked herself back into the washing alcove to remain hidden, listening for their retreating footsteps. She must have stayed there for only a few minutes, but when she emerged, all the guards were gone. The curtain around the surgical section was closed, and the lights within were turned bright, which had to mean Abby was there with Jackson, harvesting. The lights in the rest of Medical were set on a manual dim in order to allow the brightness in Surgery, so when she slowly lowered herself to the stool by the desk wall, she was sitting in low light. The nurses were still walking around with mops, cleaning up blood. Clarke could hear a few of the janitorial squad doing the same outside in the hall.

She didn't know what to make of all this. Factory was targeting Alpha, she was high up on the list, and so were two of her best friends. None of them had done anything wrong. Clarke was a Medical Apprentice training to become a physician and then later, a surgeon, all so she could help people. She'd given away free medicine _to_ people from Factory, more times than she could count. Wells was more aware of the social class issues than anyone else, and he was an active member of the Council, working to rectify the situation. Nathan was the most generous IT worker Clarke had ever met. He volunteered to hand out extra rations twice a week in the Mess Hall for all the lower class Stations. He'd never done anything against anyone. Not ever. None of them had. So why were they being targeted?

Clarke sighed, looking at her watch to see when lunch was, the time she'd finally get a break from the hectic morning, _and_ when Bellamy would come to collect her and walk with her to the Mess Hall. At the same moment, she heard his all too familiar voice outside, commenting on the mess.

Her heart soared.

She slid off the stool and hurried to the entrance, eager to finally see him and finally feel better. She was only halfway there when Bellamy pushed the transparent flaps aside and stepped through. He hadn't noticed Clarke, yet, still looking over his shoulder at one of the janitors who had his hand propped on his mop handle as he spoke to Bellamy.

"... only sent to clean," the janitor was saying when Clarke was closer. "I don't know a thing."

Bellamy hummed and said thank you before turning to face forwards again. He made to walk into Medical, but he stopped the instant his eyes lowered to Clarke. She was standing in front of him, a light smile on her face despite how stressed out she'd been moment before. She was still scared about what was going on, still feeling on edge, but she wanted to feel safe, if she could, and she always did around Bellamy. He made every heavy thing about her life feel light.

She held out her wrists. "Arrest me, Officer."

Bellamy snorted, dropping the flaps and folding his hands behind his back.

"Not an Officer, yet."

"How long have you got again?" she asked, tucking her own hands into her lab coat pockets. "Four months now?"

"And a half," he said.

"Oh, and a half," she said, her voice teasing. "I'm so sorry. I was terribly far off."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. She understood why in the next second.

"How are you doing?" he asked, bending his head to see her face better. "You look a little worse for wear since I saw you this morning."

Her heart tugged at his concern. She loved how much he cared about her.

"I just called a death in Medical," she said, the tension leaving her just a bit more.

She hadn't thought she'd want to talk about any of this, but maybe it was just that she didn't want to talk about it to anyone but him.

"I'm sure it couldn't have been helped," he said gently, comforting, and leaned a little closer.

She nodded. "I know. It's still hard, when it happens."

He hesitated a moment before speaking again.

"Who was it?" he asked, suppressed curiosity trickling into his voice. "It's pretty grisly outside."

She knew.

"Someone from Factory," she said. Her voice went a little meek when she added, "He tried to set off a bomb in Alpha Station."

She'd been gauging his reaction to that. He was already looking at her, but his attention seemed to zero in, fazing out everything else.

"He set off a bomb in Alpha?" he echoed.

"Tried to," she said again. "It was faulty. He was the only one who got hurt."

"What was he trying to bomb?"

She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but then she noticed the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders. He was too stiff all over. He had a hunch, and from the looks of it, it was about her. He wouldn't be so on edge if it wasn't.

"I don't know," she said on an exhale.

But she'd never been very good at lying. At least not to Bellamy.

"Yes, you do," he said, insistent. "I can see it in your face."

She bit her bottom lip. He would find out anyway, eventually, seeing as he was a Guardsmen. She still had to steel herself to say it.

"Chancellor Jaha's door," she said.

"What?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Clarke repeated what she'd heard, avoiding his eyes all the while. She only told him certain details about the man, that he'd bombed Jaha's door, it didn't work, he was brought to Medical, and he died. She left out everything about it being a team-effort terrorist attack. She also left out that the group was supposedly targeting the higher-ups (more specifically, their children) in Alpha. She was too nervous to say that to him. She didn't know what he'd do.

"What else?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Bellamy exhaled sharply.

"Clarke."

"Nothing else happened," she insisted.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

She tried to do just that, just to prove him wrong, but her eyes stayed trained to the floor. After another second, her shoulders sagged in defeat. She toed the ground.

"You'll worry if you know," she muttered.

"I'm already worried," he snapped, but then sighed, softening his voice again, "Tell me."

"He wasn't acting alone, apparently. And ... whoever these people are, they ... they're coming after three other families."

"For fuck's sake," he said, his hands finding his hips. "Which ones? Yours? It's yours, isn't it?"

"And Miller's and the Kanes."

She glanced up at Bellamy. His eyes were closed, his mouth tight.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," he muttered.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, though," she said, finding he needed to be comforted more than she did. "Really."

His eyes snapped open, his face falling in disbelief.

"People are trying to assassinate you and your family and everything's fine?"

"We're getting a guard detail soon," she said, though she wasn't even completely sure what was going on with that. Mostly, she was just trying to pacify him. "We'll be safe."

"I'll guard you," he said before she'd even finished speaking.

"I know you would," she said, touching his arm as a 'thank you' gesture.

"No, I will," he said, relaxing under her touch, but his voice was just as strong as before. He was rapidly moving from raging into determined. "I'll talk to the Commanding Officer. I'll ask to be appointed."

Clarke hesitated, her hand sliding off him.

"I think they want Officers."

She wasn't totally sure about that, either, but her mom mentioned getting an Officer, specifically, not just a Guardsman.

"I'll be an Officer in less than five months," he said, turning halfway away from her and toward the entrance. "I'll go talk to him now. Don't - don't go anywhere, all right?"

"Bellamy-"

"I'll be right back," he said, yanking the flaps aside and backing out. "Don't go anywhere without a guard! I mean it!"

He left her there alone, standing at the entrance to Medical while he ran down the hall. He skidded around the corner at the furthest end, grabbing the edge of the wall to keep him upright, and then he was gone again. As soon as she couldn't see him, that familiar tension came back into her body. What did he mean 'don't go anywhere without a guard'? There were no other guards nearby, and it was lunchtime.

The Medical Center and the Mess Hall were both located in Go-Sci Station, and both at the same end, so it wasn't a far walk. Even though there were a lot of others also on their way to the Mess Hall, Clarke was paranoid having to go on her own. It was rare that Bellamy didn't come with her, so it would have felt odd regardless of whether her life was being targeted or not.

She arrived within minutes, perfectly unscathed, and as soon as the automatic doors slid open to grant her entry, she spotted her friends at their usual table near the center of the room. Raven was facing the door, so she saw Clarke first at the same moment she dumped a heaping spoonful of food into her mouth. She waved Clarke over.

Everyone was there already except for Bellamy, which was expected, as Clarke herself was quite late. She sat in the space next to Wells when he patted the seat.

There was already a tray of food waiting for her, courtesy of Harper if her smile was anything to go by. A bribe, undoubtedly. Today's menu was everyday's menu for the past month: kale salad, gritty bread, and green slop. The colour was from pulverized spinach apparently. She couldn't rightly say what the taste was from, though.

"You all right?" Wells asked, bringing everyone's attention to her. "I heard you were there when they brought that guy to Medical."

He, of course, would already know what was going on, being that he'd been the first target.

Clarke nodded, taking a deep breath and plucking at her bread.

"Fine, yeah. Maybe a little stressed. You?"

"Well," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "I'm a bit fucked up about it, in all honesty. I was inside minding my business when the bloody bomb went off."

Something about his tone made her let out a soft laugh. 

"What were you doing?" Miller asked, his tone suggestive.

Wells snorted, but said nothing of it.

"Well," said Harper. "Now that we're done talking about that terrorist freak - good riddance - I can  _finally_ bring up that Clarke," she paused, a smile growing on her face, "has got herself a date with a Mecha boy."

"My Mecha?" said Raven, turning to her, leaning across the table with a sly look in her eye. "Is that so?"

"No, it's not so," Clarke said, raising her eyebrows at Harper. "I already said I don't have time for that."

"Oh, like your life is so busy," said Harper.

"I'm a Medical Apprentice in training for the position of Junior Medical Officer. Of course my life is busy."

Harper rolled her eyes, but that didn't dissuade Clarke.

"And," she went on, "now I have even _less_ time, what with the bill I've proposed being scheduled for a Second Reading. I've got to practice up on what I'm going to say at the meeting with the Council next week."

"You'll do great," said Wells, lifting a comforting hand to rub her back. "You were really professional the first time around. Everyone was impressed."

Clarke had felt so much more relaxed at the time with Wells being there, sitting right next to his father at the round table. She'd never before gotten to see him in action, so finally witnessing it was incredible. He was made for his position, and she was sure he'd be the next Chancellor one day. His professional behaviour was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Being around him was settling, and she had no doubt she'd feel that same way even if she hadn't known him. He was relaxed and collected, always asking the right questions, but never reaching a point of intimidation, which she knew took a conscious effort on his part. He was magnificent. It definitely wasn't anything to scoff at.

"No one suspects why she's proposing the amendment to the law, do they?" Raven asked, voice low.

Wells shook his head, returning his hand to his spoon.

"Not that I know of," he said, playing with the slop. "A few people are already _passionately_ for it."

"Really?" Clarke asked.

He nodded, looking at her. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but keep it to yourself, and we're fine."

"How many people?" she asked.

"Well, there's me, for a start, but I'm considered a biased figure, so I'm left out of the fun for now. A couple others, though. There was a pretty extensive debate about it after you'd left, and that isn't standard. We normally wait to bring up our points for and against motions during scheduled meetings."

"So two of the council out of twelve?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Three, if you count me," he said, and then bumped her shoulder. "Don't be upset. Like I said, having even one person speak for a motion right after it's been announced is highly unusual."

"Who were the other two?" Monty asked.

Clarke was curious, too.

"Lincoln Ripley and Marcus Kane."

Harper choked on her food at the second name. No one around the table was surprised at her reaction. Raven, least of all. She was gawking at Wells.

 _"Marcus Kane?"_ she repeated, her face contorted in an expression that looked a little like shock and a lot like disgust. "That bigot is _for_ amending the Siblings Law?"

Wells raised an eyebrow as he stirred his food, lightly shaking his head.

"It appears that way," he said. "I was put off, too, believe me."

Clarke still hadn't touched her food. She wasn't hungry when she walked in, and she was even less so now.

"Well, this is all rather suspicious," Miller said suddenly, his eyes narrowed in that way they tended to get when he was sleuthing.

"Have you talked to Bellamy about it, yet?" Wells asked Clarke.

"No, I haven't," she said, shaking her head. "I'm going to his house tonight, so I was going to bring it up to him and ... all of them, together. I can tell them about Kane and Lincoln, right?"

"I don't see why not," he said. "As long as you make sure they keep it a secret."

"Speak of the devil," said Raven, her gaze over Clarke's head.

Clarke looked over her shoulder just as Bellamy came into view with a tray. He lifted his leg over the bench and set his food down on the floor before settling in with his other leg. He'd taken the empty spot next to Clarke, one of the few vacant seats.

"Hey," he said, a little breathless, picking up his spoon and looking around at them all. "What are we talking about?"

"Why you're so late," Raven said, scraping down the sides of her bowl and not looking at him. "Make out sesh with some hottie taking up your time?"

Though she had no right to, Clarke almost always felt threatened whenever someone brought up the idea of Bellamy with another girl. Raven did it frequently enough that Clarke was usually tense when both Raven and Bellamy were in her company. It wasn't that long since he was in a relationship, either. He only became single something like eight months ago after breaking up with his long time Agro Station girlfriend. There was always the chance that he could have found someone new already, and knowing that he was closer to marriageable age than her just increased the fear all the more. Today was one of the only days she didn't feel a pang of insecurity over the teasing, knowing full well where he'd been.

"I was approved," he said, looking at Clarke when he said it.

Her lips parted. She hadn't really expected it. Otherwise, she might not have let him ask, considering he had a secret sister to look after.

Everyone else was just confused.

"What are you talking about?" Raven asked, dropping her now empty bowl with a clatter to her tray. "Approved for what?"

Bellamy glanced over at her and then back down to the standard slop, taking a bite.

"Being Clarke's guard," he said.

There was silence for maybe two seconds.

"Why?" asked Harper.

Monty looked more tense. "Is it that serious?"

Miller was looking at Wells, confused. Wells was looking at Bellamy, confused.

"Wait, what's going on?" asked Raven, turning her accusatory eyes to Wells. "You said it'd been dealt with."

Clarke looked at Wells, then, too.

"I thought it had been," he said, frowning at Bellamy. "Has it not?"

Bellamy looked uncomfortable, moving his gaze again to Clarke, silently asking her to speak, which prompted everyone else to look at her, too.

"Well," she said, sighing. "It seems none of us are on the same page."

Raven made a choking sound.

"What the Hell is going on?" she demanded.

Clarke explained everything that she knew: the terrorist plot, the guard details being assigned to her and probably Wells and Nathan, as well as their families and the Kanes. She swore them all to secrecy, especially Wells and Nathan. She asked them to pretend not to know anything when they were approached by their parents, and they agreed.

Raven was still lost, looking at Bellamy.

"So Clarke, Wells, and Nate - the Ark's nobility children in everything but name - are being stalked by terrorists, and they're letting  _you_ guard Clarke?"

Clarke didn't think it was meant as a jab, but Bellamy took it that way.

"So?" he asked, sitting taller. "I'll keep her safe."

She tried to suppress the fluttering around her heart at that. She failed.

"I don't mean you're not good at what you do," Raven clarified. "But doesn't this constitute ... I don't know, more _intense_ security? You guys are friends. That doesn't seem right."

Clarke frowned at that.

"Why not?" she asked

Bellamy huffed next to her.

"She thinks I won't be able to be a professional given our relationship."

Clarke's mind caught on 'our relationship' for a second too long, enough time for Raven to respond before she could.

"Well, can you?" she asked, a doubtful undertone to her voice. "You know yourself you're prone to irrational behaviour when it comes to people ... you care about."

Raven and Bellamy were sharing a knowing look, something Clarke - and everyone else, by the looks of it - was left out of. She frowned when Bellamy sighed, breaking the eye contact first, his body suddenly more tense.

"I'm not going to let anything come in the way of keeping Clarke safe," he said, his voice rigid. "You shouldn't have to ask that."

Everyone was silent, watching with wide-eyes at whatever was going on. No one said a word until Raven.

"You're right," she said. "I know that. You're probably the best one for the job."

Bellamy looked up at her, softening when he saw her expression, and he looked back down to his bowl.

"Thank you," he said.

In the next second, there was a low vibratory sound and Raven looked to her wrist. Monty looked to his half a second later.

"Duty calls," said Raven, grabbing the edge of the table to step out of the bench. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Their chorused goodbyes echoed around the table as Monty rose after, Miller's eyes following him.

"Same for me," said Monty, grabbing his jacket, which had been slung over the bench next to him.

Miller's mouth popped open.

"Already?" he asked. "You're usually here until I'm gone."

Monty nodded. "Yeah, we've been hitting a snag debugging this new tech from Mecha. It's taking longer than normal, and I'm better at decoding it than everyone else, so...."

Miller snorted.

"Show off," he said, and then he was standing, too. "I'll come with you."

Monty didn't object. He even looked a bit happier.

"I couldn't find the way without you, anyway," Miller teased, grinning at Monty, who smiled back.

"Is everyone seriously leaving?" Harper asked with an arm flung out toward them. She was only half done her bowl of slop, though most of her bread and all of her salad were gone.

"We've got a busy schedule," said Miller, flicking her on the shoulder as they walked around her. "Something an electronic mailwoman wouldn't know about."

Harper scoffed, turning in the other direction to be able to stare after them as they left.

"We'll see what you have to say about my job when I  _accidentally_ encrypt your most important mail with a high security algorithm."

Miller laughed out loud at that, looking back at her.

"Monty will just decrypt it for me," he said. "He's a lot better at coding than you are."

He ducked when Harper hurled her chunk of bread at him, much to the displeasure of the large, balding man whose head it hit instead. He rose, looking around in their direction for the culprit.

Harper quickly faced the table again, wide-eyed and grabbing her things.

"That's my cue to leave," she said, hurrying to stand and grabbing her cross-shoulder bag, pulling it over her head. "Clarke, you only have three days left to get in touch with you-know-who. He's asking about you."

Clarke would have objected had Harper not already been dashing across the Mess Hall to the exit. Instead, she sighed, finally starting on eating her lunch. Only she and Bellamy remained, which was the same as usual. She was always the last to leave, Bellamy usually being called to duty mere minutes before her.

"What's she talking about?" he asked, making no move to scoot away, though there was plenty of room now to do so.

"My blind date for this weekend," she said.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bellamy look up, so she lifted her eyes to meet his. He was frozen for a short moment before dropping his gaze and resuming his chewing.

"With who?" he asked, no hint of real interest in his voice.

Clarke suppressed her sigh and went back to her own meal, tearing apart the bread to dip into her slop.

"His name is Finn," she said around a mouthful of food. "He's from Mecha Station."

"Mecha Station?" Bellamy asked, looking up again. Clarke didn't meet his gaze that time. "Why wouldn't you date someone from Alpha?"

At that, she  _did_ lift her eyes, confusion written across her face.

"Why should I?" she asked, swallowing before going on. "It's not like you only date within Factory."

"Yeah, but..." he started, hesitating too long.

Clarke dropped her food, leaning away from him.

"But what?" she asked, her voice taking on a demanding tone. "But I'm a privileged snob who wouldn't date someone 'beneath' me?"

Bellamy abandoned his food then, too, sighing and angling his body toward her, the hand closest to her propped on his thigh.

"That isn't what I meant," he said, his voice soft, but Clarke knew that it was.

She snapped her mouth shut, a light frown clouding her face, and she looked away, stuffing a huge chunk of bread into her mouth. More than feeling angry, she was hurt. How stupid could he possibly be? How couldn't he see what was right in front of his face everyday? And  _why_  would he think that she cared about the social hierarchy? Most of her friends weren't from Alpha, so why wouldn't he stop seeing her as some snooty, priggish Alpha Princess?

Her wristband vibrated and she looked down at the screen, seeing her lunch break was already over. It was a shorter break than normal, likely given the situation at hand, which only dampened her spirits further. She'd been late getting to the Mess Hall, and then late to eating, and now she'd barely even eaten anything and she already had to go back to work.

Suppressing a grumble - she wouldn't be eating until supper now - she got up from the table and started toward the exit without saying goodbye to Bellamy.

She heard him scrambling over the bench as he stood, but she didn't turn.

"Clarke, come on," he called. "Can you wait a second?"

No, she couldn't. But it didn't matter, because in perfect Bellamy-fashion, he followed her out anyway. She was barely out into the halls when she heard his jogging footsteps behind her, nearly at her. Knowing he was about to grab her, she whirled to face him, stepping back and out of his reach.

He slowed to a stop, staring her down, letting out a sharp exhale. They were completely alone now.

"Don't leave when you're angry," he said.

"I'm not leaving because I'm angry," she said, showing him her watch, which was still vibrating and blinking. "I'm being called to Medical."

He faltered at that, his shoulders relaxing on his exhale.

"Oh," he said, flicking his eyes to hers for just a moment before dropping them.

"I have to go," she said, but made no move to leave.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, stepping toward her to close the distance, reaching for her elbows. She let him take them, but she knew she shouldn't. She liked being touched by him too much. "I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that your parents are going to want you to marry soon, and they aren't going to be happy if you choose someone from Mecha."

Clarke scoffed, resisting the urge to stomp her foot as she lifted her eyes to his.

"I never said anything about marrying him, Bellamy," she said. "It's a first date."

She wasn't even sure she would be going anyway.

"I know," he said.

"And what do you know about what my parents think?" she went on, some of the bite having left her voice. "They'll be fine with who I marry as long as I'm in love."

Bellamy shrugged an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Rolling her eyes, Clarke wrenched her arms out of his grip and turned to walk down the hall toward Medical. Bellamy easily caught up to her and stopped her again, pulling her back by her shoulders and gently pushing her back up against the metal wall. She wouldn't look at him.

"You're right," he said. "You know them better than I do. I'm sure they'll be happy with whoever you choose."

They would be. She knew they would be. She wanted to end up with Bellamy, and her parents loved him.

"What does it even matter to you?" she asked, her face reddening at the question even though it was such a small show of vulnerability.

"It doesn't," he said after a moment.

Her hopes didn't fall. They hadn't been raised to begin with.

 _Why not?_ she wanted to ask. _Why doesn't it matter?_ But she didn't have the courage.

He stared at her for a moment, his held tilted down, before he cleared his throat and pulled his hands back to unzip his armour. He glanced over his shoulder toward the closed Mess Hall door before procuring a thick stack of wrapped cookies, ones they certainly hadn't had at lunch. He dipped his hand into her lab coat pocket and removed it just as quick, leaving the small weight behind.

"How did you get these?" she asked, feeling them through the fabric. "I didn't even see you this time."

Bellamy looked like he was fighting his smile.

"You weren't exactly watching."

It was a rare day that Bellamy didn't sneak sugary treats from the kitchens for her. She never knew exactly how he got away with it, but he did every time. The first time he'd done it, he said it was because she got grumpy when her blood sugar dropped too low. He'd tried to do it everyday since.

Clarke stared at him for a moment before her entire body sighed.

"Thanks for always doing this, Bellamy," she said quietly.

He smiled, waving his hand.

"It's not a problem," he said gently, and then, "I like to."

Clarke had had enough today of him making her yearn for him.

"Don't you have to get to work, too?" she asked, stowing her hands into her pockets, feeling the cookies and crumpled notes within.

He gave her a cheeky smirk.

"You're my job now."

She only stared, stamping down the pathetic giddiness erupting in her stomach. She thought about hugging him, just because she wanted to. He might think it odd, but he'd let her. He might even hug her back.

"How did you get here, by the way?" he asked.

Her fantasy dropped right out of her head.

"I walked."

"You didn't come alone, did you?"

Her hesitation at answering was, apparently, enough to clue him in.

"Are you serious?" he asked, though she hadn't said anything. "Clarke, I told you not to go anywhere without a guard."

"There was no one else around. What was I supposed to do?"

He sighed sharply.

"Well, I'm not leaving you alone again anyway. It doesn't matter. Come on, let's get you to Medical."

He stepped away and settled his hand on her lower back, drawing her away from the wall and softly guiding her down the corridor. When his hand fell away, repressed her sigh, looking over her shoulder at him.

"So what will this be like?" she asked.

"Being your guard?" he asked.

She nodded, and he came just the slightest bit closer.

"I'll be wherever you are," he said.

She glanced at him. "All day?"

He nodded. "All day."

She felt a thrill shoot through her at the prospect. Could she really have him around all the time? Her stomach tightened in a pleasant way at the next thought.

"What about at night?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"Then, too."

Clarke didn't know how she was going to get through this. Having him around all the time would be torture. It would be so sweet, too. But it would mostly be torture. She was doomed.

The rest of the day passed by without any major events. Work went on much the same as always, only now with Bellamy standing guard outside the door flaps, the occasional sound of his radio coming to life as Officers and Guardsmen communicated on the main line. It was easier, she had to admit, just knowing he was there. She didn't feel in danger at all, from bombers or anyone else. Deep down in her bones, she knew Bellamy would keep her safe. She'd never felt as protected with anyone else. It was also nice having someone to share her snack with on break.

Because he had to stay outside the Center to remain on alert, Clarke joined him instead. He'd moved to lean his side against the wall so he was facing her, his back to the entrance to Medical. There were five cookies, but he insisted on having only one. He didn't steal them for himself, after all.

She waited until he took a bite of his before she took a bite of hers.

"I have the Second Reading next week," she said, and he looked up. "My motion passed the first stage."

He nodded, all at once anxious.

"That must be good," he said.

"It's certainly better than _not_ making it to round two. I want to tell you everything that happened, but I thought it would be better to do it with all of you at once."

He nodded again, his shoulders tight. He wasn't meeting her eyes.

"Hey," she said, stepping the slightest bit closer, waiting until he focused on her. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to see this through. You know that, don't you?"

He was just looking at her, so she went on.

"I don't care if it doesn't work this time. I'm going to appeal them again and again and again, however many times it takes until it _does_ work. I won't stop," she paused for just a moment, lowering her voice until she herself could barely hear it, "until Octavia and every other second child is released from the Sky Box. I swear to you I mean it."

His features softened and he blinked a few times before letting out a soft sigh. He surprised her, then, by reaching forward to squeeze her upper arm.

"Thank you, Clarke."

She nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. His grip on her slackened and his hand fell away, dragging down her arm, all the way to her hand, thoughtlessly grazing her fingers before falling back to his side.

Clarke could feel his touch on her skin the entire rest of the shift. She was distracted for the rest of it, too, her eyes continually finding the slightly blurred outline of Bellamy on the other side of the door flaps. She could absolutely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite a few drafts to publish within the next little while that I've been sitting on for fricken ever. This is the first of them. I haven't abandoned my other fics. It's just taking me a stupidly long time to get around to finishing them, for which I apologize. I'm working on them all, albeit at a snail's pace, but they'll get done! I'm forcing myself to finish all my fics this year, and the goal is to do that before June. So for those of you who know me/are a fan of IKIDDI and the others, know that I'm doing my best to get the endings written for them all.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it so far and will also enjoy what I have to come :)))


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